From Death into Life by William Haslam

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This is an important question to settle, and, therefore, I will give
three examples from Scripture.

No one can doubt the zeal of Saul of Tarsus. This was no easy-going,
charitable creed, which supposes all good men are right. He was sure
that if he was right, as a natural consequence Stephen was wrong, even
blasphemous, and as such worthy of death. Therefore, he had no scruples
about instigating the death of such a one. Notwithstanding all this
uncompromising and straightforward religiousness, he needed to be
brought from death to life.

Again: look at Cornelius, who was "a devout man that feared God with all
his house, which gave much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway"
(Acts 10:2). There can be no mistake about this man with such a
testimony; and yet he also needed to hear words whereby he and all his
house should be saved (Acts 11:14). Next: Nicodemus, I suppose it will
be admitted, was an earnest and religious man. Evidently, he was one of
those who "believed in the name of Jesus, because he saw the miracles
which He did" (John 2:23). This man, humble and teachable as he was,
came to Jesus, and said, "Rabbi, we know that Thou art a teacher come
from God, for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God
be with him." Yet he was told, "Except a man be born again, he cannot
see the kingdom of God." "Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be
born again" (John 3). As surely as all mankind are dead in Adam, so
surely every man needs spiritual life. In this respect it was no new
thing which the Lord Jesus propounded to Nicodemus. The spiritual change
of heart he referred to has always been the one condition of intercourse
with God. All God's saints, even in the Old Testament times, had
experienced 'this. Hence the Lord's exclamation, "Art thou a master of
Israel, and knowest not these things?"

It may be urged that these three men were not in the Christian
dispensation. Let this be granted; but the point at hand is that they
needed spiritual life, though they were such good religious men. It will
not be very hard to prove that even baptized men in the Christian
dispensation need to be raised from death unto life just as much as any
other children of Adam. It is clear, both from Scripture and experience,
that baptism, whatever else it imparts, does not give spiritual
vitality.

St. Peter's testimony is this, "Of a truth I perceive that God is no
respecter of persons; but in every nation he that feareth Him and
worketh righteousness is accepted with Him" (Acts 10: 34, 35). Accepted
to be saved, not because there is any merit in his works, but because
God sees that there is real sincerity in his living up to the light he
has. The heathen who know there is a God, and do not worship His as God,
are given over to idolatry (Rom.1); but, on the other hand, those who do
worship Him, and give Him thanks, are taken in hand to be guided into
life and truth. Therefore are we justified in hoping that earnest and
religious men, though they be dead, if their religion is really towards
God, will be brought to spiritual life.

It was a happy winter to me, however, notwithstanding my spiritual
deficiencies; and the recollection of it still abides in my memory. I
had now no desire for the world and its pleasures. My mind had quite
gone from such empty amusements and frivolities; even the taste I used
to have for these things was completely taken away.

I was happier now than ever I had been before, so that I am convinced
from personal experience that even a religious life may be one of joy,
though by no means so satisfying and abiding as a truly spiritual one. I
was happy, as I have already said, and longed for the time when I could
be ordained, and devote my energies to work for God in the ministry.

CHAPTER 3

Ordination and First Parish, 1842.

On the returning spring, as I was feeling so much stronger, and
altogether better, I thought I would go and see the physician who had
sounded me some months before. He, after a careful examination, still
adhered to his previous opinion, and gave very little hope of my
recovery, but suggested that if I went to the north coast of Cornwall
there might be a chance for me.

On my return home, I took up an "Ecclesiastical Gazette," though it was
three months old, and looked over the advertisements. There I observed
one which invited a curate for a church in that very neighbourhood. It
was a sole charge; but, strange to say, a title for holy orders was
offered also. In reply to this I wrote a letter, asking for particulars,
in which I stated my Church views, and that I was ordered to that part
of the country for the benefit of my health.

The Vicar, who resided in another parish, thirty miles off, was so eager
to get help for this one, that he wrote back to say he had sent my
letter to the Bishop, with one from himself, and that I should hear from
his lordship in a few days.

I was surprised at this precipitation of affairs, and all the more so
when I received a note from the Bishop of Exeter (Phillpotts), bidding
me come to him immediately, that I might be in time for the Lent
ordination.

Accordingly, I started westward, and having passed my examination, I was
sent with letters dimissory to the Bishop of Salisbury (Denison), to
whom I was also sent, a year afterwards, for priest's orders. I was very
weak, and much exhausted with travelling, but still went on, though I
know not how.

The long-desired day at length arrived, and I was duly ordained; but
instead of being full of joy, I became much depressed in mind and body,
and could not rouse myself from dwelling upon the Bishop's address,
which was very solemn. He told us that we were going to take charge of
the souls of our parishioners, and that God would require them at our
hands; we must take heed how we tended the Lord's flock. Altogether, it
was more than I had calculated upon; and feeling very ill that
afternoon, I thought that I had undertaken a burden which would
certainly be my ruin. "What could I do with souls?" My idea of
ordination was to be a clergyman, read the prayers, preach sermons, and
do all I could to bring people to church; but how could I answer for
souls which had to live for ever? and what was I to do with them?

In the evening, I so far roused myself as to go amongst the other
candidates, to sound them, and ascertain what were their feelings with
regard to the Bishop's solemn address! They merely thought that it was
very beautiful, and that he was a holy man; and then some of them
proposed that we should all go in a riding party, to see Stonehenge, the
next day. It was especially thought that a drive on the Wiltshire plains
could do me a great deal of good, if I did not feel strong enough to
ride on horseback. I agreed to this, and went with them to see this
famous temple of Druidical worship; and after that set off for Plymouth,
on my way to the far west. But, alas! the charm of ordination had fled,
and I was more than half sorry that I had undertaken so much. It had
been done so precipitately too, for even now it was only ten days since
I had seen the physician.

After resting a day, I proceeded to Truro, and then took a post-chaise
and drove out to my first parish, called Perranzabuloe, which was
situated about eight miles from Truro, on the north coast of Cornwall. I
alighted at an old manor house, where I was to have apartments with a
farmer and his family. Being much fatigued, I soon retired to bed,
anything but happy, or pleased with the bleak and' rough-looking place
to which I had come.

I slept well, however, and the next morning felt considerably better,
and was revived in spirits. After making many inquiries about things in
general, I obtained the keys, and made my way to the parish church,
which was about ten minutes' walk from the house. Here, again, I was
greatly grieved and disappointed to see such a neglected churchyard and
dilapidated church; and when I went inside, my heart sank, for I had
never seen a place of worship in such a miserable condition. Moreover, I
was told that the parish was seven miles long, and that its large
population of three thousand souls was scattered on all sides, excepting
round the church.

I had left my friends a long way off, and was alone in a strange place,
with an amount of work and responsibility for which I knew I was
thoroughly unprepared and unfit. However, I sauntered back to my
lodgings, and began to ruminate as to what was to be done.

I had now sole charge of this extensive parish, for the duties of which
I was to receive the very moderate stipend of forty pounds a year; but
of this I did not complain, for my board and lodging, with washing, and
the keep of a horse included, was only twelve shillings a week, leaving
me a margin of nearly ten pounds for my personal expenses. The questions
that troubled me were--what was I to do with three thousand people? And
how was I to reach them?

In due course Sunday morning arrived, and with the help of a
neighbouring clergyman, who kindly came over, as he said, "to put me in
the way," I got through the service (being the only one for the day at
that time), having about a score of listless people, lounging in
different parts of the church, for a congregation. This was my first
Sunday in my first parish.

Just at this time a book was sent me by a kind friend, entitled "The
Bishopric of Souls," which terrified me even more than the Bishop's
charge had done; for I felt that, notwithstanding my ardent desire to
serve and glorify God, I had not the remotest conception how to do it,
as regards winning souls. The author of this book took it for granted
that every one who had the office of a pastor, had also the spiritual
qualification for it; but experience proves that this is by no means the
case. My ordination gave me an ecclesiastical position in the parish;
the law maintained me in it; and the people expected me to do the duties
of it: but how to carry all this out, except in a dry and formal way, I
did not know.

As time went on, my parochial duties increased. I had to baptize the
children, marry the young, visit the sick, and bury the dead; but I
could not help feeling how different was this in action, to what it was
in theory. I had had a kind of dreamland parish in my head, with daily
service, beautiful music, and an assembly of worshipping people; but
instead of this, I found a small, unsympathizing congregation, who
merely looked upon these sacred things as duties to be done, and upon me
as the proper person to do them. When I went to visit the sick I had
nothing to say to them; so I read a few Collects, and sometimes gave
them a little temporal relief, for which they thanked me; but I came out
dissatisfied with myself, and longed for something more, though I did
not know what.

Notwithstanding all these trials and disappointments, my health was
gradually improving. I found that the air of this place was like meat
and drink, and gave me an appetite for something more substantial. I
very often frequented the beach, with its beautiful cliffs, and was much
exhilarated by the bracing sea air; indeed, I had, and still retain,
quite a love for the place. As my strength and energy increased, I rode
about the parish all day, making the acquaintance of the people, and
inviting them to come to church.

During my visits, I found out that the church warden was a good
musician, and that he knew others in the parish who were able to play on
various instruments; so in order to improve the services, and make them
more attractive, I urged him to invite these musical people to his house
to practise; and in due course we had a clarionet, two fiddles, and his
bass viol, with a few singers to form a choir. We tried over some
metrical psalms (for there were no hymn-books in those days), and soon
succeeded in learning them. This musical performance drew many people to
church. The singers were undeniably the great attraction, and they knew
it; consequently I was somewhat in their power, and had to submit to
various anthems and pieces, such as "Vital Spark." "Angels Ever Bright
and Fair," and others, not altogether to my taste, but which they
evidently performed to their own praise and satisfaction.

Finding that the people were beginning to frequent the church, I thought
it was time to consider what steps should be taken about its
restoration, and made it the subject of conversation with the farmers.
It awakened and alarmed many of them when I said that the church must be
restored, and that we must have a church rate. The chief farmer shook
his head, saying, "You cannot carry that;" but I replied, "According to
law, you are bound to keep up the fabric, and it ought to be done. I
will write to the Vicar at once about it." He was a non-resident
pluralist.

The farmer smiled at that, and said, laughing, "I will pledge myself
that we will do as much as he does." It so happened that the Vicar,
equally incredulous about the farmers doing anything, promised that he
would do one half, if they would do the other.

Having ascertained this to my satisfaction, I immediately sent for the
mason of the village, who played the clarionet in the church, also his
son, who was "one of the of the fiddles," and consulted with them as to
how this matter was to be accomplished. They, being in want of work at
the time, readily advised me in favour of restoration. The churchwarden
(the "bass viol") said "that he had no objection to this proceeding, but
that he would not be responsible. In two months," he added, "would be
the annual vestry meeting." "That will do," I said, interrupting him;
and I made up my mind that I would at once restore the church, and let
the parishioners come and see it at that time.

Having made all necessary preparations, we commenced one fine Monday
morning with repairing the roof and walls; and while the men were
employed outside, we took out the windows and opened all the doors, to
let the wind blow through, that the interior of the building might be
thoroughly dried. This done, we next coloured the walls, also the stone
arches and pillars (they were far too much broken to display them); and
having cleaned the seats and front of the gallery, we stained and
varnished them, matted the floor, carpeted the sacrarium, and procured a
new cloth for the Communion Table, and also for the 'pulpit and
reading-desk.

All this being completed, I painted texts with my own hands on the
walls, in old English characters. I had great joy in writing these, for
I felt as if it was to the Lord Himself, and for His name, and finished
with Nehemiah's prayer, "Remember me, O my God, concerning this; and
wipe not out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God, and
for the offices thereof" (Neh. 13:14).

Altogether, it was a pretty church now, and a pretty sum was to be paid
for it. I told the vestry that I alone was responsible, but that the
Vicar had promised to pay one half if the vestry would pay the other. It
seemed to be such a joy to them to get anything out of him, that they
made a rate at once; and upon the Vicar's letter, raised the money and
paid off the debt.

The people were much pleased with their church in its new aspect, and
brought their friends and neighbours to see it. Besides this, I observed
something which gratified me very much. It was that when they entered
the church they did so with reverence, taking off their hats and walking
softly, in place of stamping with their heels and coming in with their
hats on, as they too often had previously done, without any respect or
concern whatever. A neglected place of worship does not command
reverence.

My church now began to be the talk of the neighbourhood. Numbers of
people came to see it, and among them several clergymen, who asked me to
come and restore their churches.

There were many places where the people could not afford to rebuild the
structure. In such, I was invited to exercise my skill in repairing, as
I had done with my own; in others, I was asked to give designs for
restoring portions of the edifice; and in some, for rebuilding
altogether. In this district, schools were not built nor
parsonage-houses enlarged without sending for me.

For several years I was looked upon as an authority in architectural
matters. I rode about all over the county from north to west, restoring
churches and designing schools, and was accounted the busiest man alive;
and my horse, my dog, and myself, the "three leanest things in
creation," we were to be seen flying along the roads, day and night, in
one part or another.

The Bishop of Exeter, who at that time presided over Cornwall, appointed
me to make new "Peel" districts.* I designed nineteen, and made all the
maps myself, calling on the Vicars and Rectors for their approbation. I
was at this time a very popular man, and it was said that "the Bishop's
best living" would be given to me in due time.

_____________

* The "Peel" districts were the new ecclesiastical districts
created under the Church Extension Act, introduced by Sir Robert Peel.
_____________

CHAPTER 4

Antiquarian Researches and Ministry, 1843-6.

Another thing which raised my name in and beyond the county was the
"Lost Church" at Perranzabuloe. There was an old British church existing
in some sand-hills in the parish, and it was said to be entire as far as
the four walls. The hill under which it was buried was easily known by
the bones and teeth which covered it. The legend said that the patron
saint, St. Piran, was buried under the altar, and that close by the
little church was a cell in which he lived and died. This was enough. I
got men, and set to work to dig it up. After some days' labour we came
to the floor, where we discovered the stone seats, and on the plaster of
the wall the greasy marks of the heads and shoulders of persons who had
sat there many centuries ago. We found the chancel step, and also the
altar tomb (which was built east and west, not north and south). It was
fallen, but enough remained to show the original shape and height of it.

I put a notice in the newspapers, inviting people to come and see the
old church which had been buried for fifteen hundred years. In the
presence of many visitors, clerical and lay, we removed the stones of
the altar, and found the skeleton of St. Piran, which was identified in
three ways. The legend said that he was a man seven feet high; the
skeleton measured six feet from the shoulder-bones to the heel Again,
another legend said that his heart was enshrined in a church forty miles
away; the skeleton corresponded with this, for it was headless.
Moreover, it was said that his mother and a friend were buried on either
side of him; we also found skeletons of a male and female in these
positions. Being satisfied on this point, we set the masons to work to
rebuild the altar tomb in its original shape and size, using the same
stones as far as they would go. We made up the deficiency with a heavy
granite slab.

On this I traced with my finger, in rude Roman letters, "SANCTUS
PIRANUS." The mason would not cut those crooked letters unless I
consented for him to put his name in better ones in the corner. I could
not agree to this, so his apprentice and I, between us, picked out the
rude letters, which have since (I have heard) been copied for a
veritable Roman inscription.

My name was now up as an antiquary, and I was asked to be the secretary
(for the West of England) to the Archaeological Society. I was supposed
to be an old gentleman, and heard myself quoted as the "venerable and
respected Haslam," whose word was considered enough to settle a knotty
point beyond doubt. I was invited to give a lecture on the old Perran
Church, at the Royal Institution, Truro, which I did; illustrating it
with sketches of the building, and exhibiting some rude remains of
carving, which are now preserved in the museum there.

The audience requested me (through their chairman) to print my lecture.
This I undertook also; but being very young in literary enterprises, I
added a great deal of other matter to the manuscript which I was
preparing for the press. There was much in the book * about early
Christianity and ecclesiastical antiquities. I imagined that this parish
was, in British and Druidic times, a populous place, and somewhat
important. There was a "Round," or amphitheatre, for public games, and
four British castles; also a great many sepulchral mounds on the hills,
the burial-place of chieftains. I supposed that St. Piran came here
among these rude natives (perhaps painted savages) to preach the Gospel,
and then built himself a cell by the sea-shore,+ near a spring or well,
where he baptized his converts. Close by, he built this little church,
in which he worshipped God and prayed for the people.

________________________________

* "The Church of St. Piran." Published by Van Voorst.
+ This little building still remains entire, under the sand. Some pieces
of British pottery and limpet-shells were found outside the door.
________________________________

The words of the poet Spenser do not inaptly describe this scene of
other days:--

A little, lowly hermitage it was,
Downe in a dale--
Far from resort of people, that did pas
In treveill to and fro: a litle wyde
There was a holy chappell edifyde,
Wherein the hermite dewly wont to say
His holy things each morn and eventyde;
Thereby a crystall streame did gently play,
Which, from a sacred fountaine welled forth away.

Here then, more than fourteen centuries ago, people called upon God; and
when their little sanctuary was overwhelmed with the sand, they removed
to the other side of the river, and built themselves another church; but
they still continued to bury their dead around and above the oratory and
resting-place of St. Piran.

When my book was published, there ensued a hot controversy about the
subject of it; and some who came to see the "Lost Church" for
themselves, declared that it was nothing more than "a modern cowshed;"
others would not believe in the antiquity I claimed for it: one of these
even ventured to assert his opinion in print, that "it was at least
eight centuries later than the date I had fixed;" another asked in a
newspaper letter, "How is it, if this is a church, that there are no
others of the same period on record?"

This roused me to make further research; and I was soon rewarded by
finding in the registry at Exeter a list of ninety-two churches existing
in Cornwall alone in the time of Edward the Confessor, of which
Lam-piran was one. With the help of another antiquary, I discovered nine
in one week, in the west part of the county, with foundation walls and
altar tombs, of which I published an account in the "Archaeological
Journal." This paper set other persons to work, who discovered similar
remains in various parts of the country; and thus it was proved to
demonstration that we had more ecclesiastical antiquities, and of
earlier date, than we were aware of.

Next, my attention was directed to Cornish crosses; about which I also
sent a paper, with illustrations, as a good secretary and correspondent
to the same Journal. My researches on this subject took me back to a
very remote time. I found crosses among Roman remains, with
inscriptions, something like those in the Catacombs near Rome--these
were evidently Christian; but I found crosses also among Druidic
antiquities. I could not help inquiring, "Where did the Druids get this
sign?" From the Phoenicians. "Where did they get it?" From the
Egyptians. "Where did they get it?" Then I discovered that the cross had
come to Egypt with traditions about a garden, a woman, a child, and a
serpent, and that the cross was always represented in the hand of the
second person of their trinity of gods. This personage had a human
mother, and slew the serpent which had persecuted her.*

_______________________

* These traditions came to the Egyptians from an ancestor who had come
over the flood with seven others.
_______________________

Here was a wonderful discovery! The mythology of Egypt was based on
original tradition, handed down from Antediluvian times! From further
investigation, it was evident that the substance of Hindoo mythology
came from the same source; as also that of the Greeks, Chinese,
Mexicans, and Scandinavians. This is how the Druids got the cross also:
it was in the hand of their demi-god Thor, the second person of their
triad, who slew the great serpent with his famous hammer, which he
bequeathed to his followers.

I was beside myself with excitement, and walked bout the room in a most
agitated state. I then made a table or harmony of these various
mythologies, and when placed side by side, it was quite clear that they
were just one and the same story, though dressed up in a variety of
mythological forms, and that the story was none other than that of the
Bible.

In my architectural journeys I used to entertain, people with these
wondrous subjects; and one evening I had the honour of agitating even
the Bishop of Exeter himself, who, in his enthusiasm, bade me write a
book, and dedicate it to him. I did so. "The Cross and the Serpent" is
the title of it, and it was duly inscribed to his lordship.

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